


Kiss From a Rose

by WriteMeow2



Category: Ripper Street
Genre: F/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-07-10 19:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriteMeow2/pseuds/WriteMeow2
Summary: All signs point to the Ripper's return to Whitechapel. Taking with him someone close to Jackson. Leaving the coroner not only grief stricken, but trying to maneuver through life with more baggage than anticipated. Warning for mpreg! Chapter 2 up!





	1. Chapter 1

**_Overview: This' set primarily within Season One. Preferably so because the widespread fear of the Ripper's return is still prevalent, versus subsequent seasons beyond this point. My first go at this amazing series. Please enjoy!_ **

**_(This was originally posted on Fanfiction with poor results. Hoping for it to do better here)._ **

* * *

The sound of horses hooves clopping along the loose cobblestone, vendors with their trinkets. East End was a bustling metropolis, though despite this, panic still flooded the streets of London. Brothels taking extra measure to ensure their girls not wander the Whitechapel district at dusk.

Detective Inspector Edmund Reid surveyed all that was happening around him. An observant man by nature, but given the latest, and ostensibly last attack and murder by what the media had dubbed _Jack the Ripper_. He was sure to remain particularly vigilant.

"Need'a lift, sir?"

An older coachman inquires, his thick Cockney accent breaking through. Reid shakes his head, immediately turning it at the sound of the horse's whinny. The man smiles and adjusts the reins.

"'Ight 'en"

Hearing him give a click of his tongue, the animal shakes its head and resumes pace. The Detective walks a couple blocks until reaching the H Division's station. Spotting the fire bearded desk Sergeant Donald Artherton, he makes his way towards him.

"Af'ernoon, Ins'ector Reid. 'Ere to see Doc'er Jackson, I presume?"

The man nods his head "indeed I am".

The Sergeant holds up a finger as he rearranges some papers. Soft glow from the desk lamp accentuating the rough creases at the corners of his eyes. He gives a small smile and motions his hand down the short hall.

"'Ight down 'eh hall, take 'ah left"

Ried tips his hat as a _thank you_ in the Sergeant's direction and continues onward towards the morgue. Opening the wooden and worn, glass paned doors to reveal the American, former Army surgeon, partially slumped in a chair.

A rigid corpse lay, somewhat covered by a white sheet on the table. The cuffs of the man's pinstripe dress-shirt stained red with blood.

"I dunno how you conducted yourself back in the States, Captain. But I assure you, 'ere in Britain, things are held on a higher caliber"

The younger man's eyes flicker open, squinting at the gray suited, derby donned figure standing in the doorway. It appeared as though the coroner was struggling to keep awake.

He stifles a yawn and attempts to get to his feet. Wiping the excess blood on his formally crisp, white apron.

"Relax, (he began in a somewhat soft, though irritated tone) job's still gettin' done, ain't it? Not like the body's goin' anywhere"

Despite trying to keep things grounded. Even Reid himself couldn't help but lightly chuckle at this. The corners of his mouth giving way to a small smile. Jackson trudges over to the side of the table, holding a Valentin knife.

Pointing the tool towards the woman's abdoman. Simultaneously moving the sheet down some to reveal a fairly long, jagged cut.

Reid moves closer. Choosing to stand the opposite side, attempting to absorb as much as he could concerning this poor woman's demise. The coroner cocks a brow, examining the wound. He then playfully splays his fingers towards himself.

"Now, I know I'm just some low caliber Yank, but this 'ere looks like the Ripper's work"

His wiseacre inflection, taking on a more serious tone towards the end. Reid's eyes travel from the body over towards Jackson. Whom then had his face somewhat buried in the crook of his arm. Almost appearing as though he were about to be ill.

Even his complexion had taken on a pale/greenish hue. The Inspector narrowed his eyes, brows knitted in confusion. Trying to figure out if this was just simply another one of his games or if he was serious.

"Jackson, everything alright?"

No sooner had the words left his lips- was the coroner rushing to the nearest hand basin to empty the contents of his stomach. Reid grimaced upon hearing the young man dry heave and cough. A stream of hot water then flushes the bile down the drain.

"What on earth, man?! You can't possibly be weak stomached in your field of work. Its not troubled you before"

Reid moves closest towards him, while still staying near the table. The former Army surgeon runs a few fingers through his dark, hickory washed hair. Releasing an irascible groan before, once again, slumping back down into the chair.

He closes his eyes. Hoping soon his fickle stomach would settle. Reid however was left still trying to deduce what exactly was the issue at play here.

Though, it may prove just as difficult as attempting to unravel the true identity of the _Ripper_. Jackson finally manages to choke out a response with a bit of a laugh.

"Oh Hell no, been elbow deep in innards since I was 18"

Reid's brow shoots up. The statement only furthering to confuse him.

"Well, if you're conditioned to this. Then what the Hell could possibly be the issue, here?!"

He couldn't help but have his words tumble out with an edge to them. Worry brought this to the surface. He then notices the coroner's head shift towards him with a crooked smile and small laugh.

"Well, 'tah shed some light here (gesturing with his hands slightly as he spoke) I'm what you Brits sometimes refer to as " _up the duff_ "(expression complete with finger quotes)..as they say"


	2. Chapter 2

"You're..pregnant?"

Reid stated, rather at a loss for words. The coroner finally gets to his feet once more, however choosing to keep towards the back where the corpse's head lie. Eyes following the small stream of blood as it trickled down the metal floor grate.

"That's usually what the phrase implies, yes"

He responded facetiously. The Inspector wasn't quite sure how to take news of this nature. It surely didn't reflect well on the department being down their only functioning morgue worker whilst the body count continued to climb. Cold cases mounting, unable to establish a cause of death.

"How long can you work before you're to take your leave?"

Reid inquired further. Jackson exhaled sharply and scratched at his jawline with his index finger, as if to ponder and take serious consideration of the question before answering.

"Not intendin' to go anywhere for awhile. Ya have me for a good seven months still, at least"

The Inspector nods, mentally running through where the department stood as far as workload was concerned. He supposed it was possible for the Division to acquire a temp for the time being. Only issue being they hadn't the resources or time to brief a newcomer of their methods, preferences, etc.

Back when he was pregnant with his own child, things weren't quite as bad. It would be a full 6 years before the Ripper started plaguing the district of White Chapel. Leaving the department to handle cases more efficiently without the added stress of an elusive serial killer.

"Right..when the time comes you need to inform Abberline and Flynn of your condition. Though I suspect it won't be necessary when you get further along, they can deduce for themselves"

Jackson chuckles a bit and runs the blade down the perimeter of the cut. In the time it took Reid to blink, the coroner had removed a small section of intestine to examine. One would think with all the years accumulated of the American being around death, that the morning sickness would spare him at least. But the symptom was an unforgiving little wretch.

"I would hope so seein' as it's their job to deduce things. If not, then they're pretty shitty at their craft"

This smart-ass statement earned a somewhat unexpected laugh from Reid. The coroner had always seen him as straight laced, dry personality. So this was rather pleasant to say the least.

"I'll finish up here in a bit. Should have a solid answer in the next couple hours if this' really his handiwork or not"

The Inspector tips his hat once more as a _thank you_ to Jackson before departing out the doors. Managing his way outside, watching as his breath condensed into an almost hypnotic cloud trail.

Since the discovery of their coroner's condition, it left Reid with an unrelenting whim to try and uncover the child's maternal side. Of course this was none of his business, but it was still something of interest to him. Especially if it was someone he knew.

* * *

He returns to the station within the estimated time frame given by Jackson. Again, repeating the motions of making his way down the short hall and into the morgue. The victim's wound now stitched, the young man sighs and shakes his head. Eyes traveling over to Reid.

"It's him"

He spoke solemnly. Hearing this nearly sent the Inspector's heart to leap into his throat. He removes his bowler and takes a few steps towards the now absently wiseacre examiner.

"Are..you sure?"

"Positive"

He motions for Reid to come over to his side of the table. As if he didn't want anyone else catching notice. The inflection in his voice sounding as though his very soul had been drained.

"Her uterus was ripped from her body, Reid. I knew right then 'an there it had to be him"

The Inspector's second biggest concern was the unabated harassment from the surrounding media concerning H. Division's dealings with the ongoing Ripper investigations. Though it was namely an underhanded individual, Fred Best, at which his concerns were most fixated.

"The press will have a field-day of this. But we owe it to the citizens to inform them"

Jackson nods his head silently in agreement. Removing the soiled apron and throwing it over the back of a chair.

"Part of the job requirement, Reid. No one said it was easy. Just beware, that bastard Best will be like'a dog to a bone with this. Don't give 'em any leeway."


End file.
